


Fetish for My Love

by futsch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Pining, but for a third person, non-con, weird kinky sex, where do i even begin with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futsch/pseuds/futsch
Summary: Find someone you can share your obsessions with.





	Fetish for My Love

**Author's Note:**

> First off, don't read if you know you're not into weird and/or non-con stuff. This'll upset you. Don't do that to yourself. Go read things that make you happy! Thanks to PermianExtinction and Anastasia_G, the former for letting me use some of their initial ideas in here at the beginning and the latter for being the support Trash like me needs to #indulge. Like, maybe I should work on other things but I've been busy and I was inspired.
> 
> Background: Vader Dark Visions #3 dropped this week and I had Feelings. There were lots of feelings from the SW fandom about it. Chuck Wendig commented that it was like a story he was gonna write with a morgue attendant who was obsessed with Vader but it was gonna focus on toxic masculinity. Me, being unhappy with literally all the events unfolding, said, "Fuck this. The only answer is to ship Nurse Girl and Morgue Boy and have them consummate their weird Darth Vader obsession together."
> 
> Don't think too hard about it.

“ _ Come get this garbage out of my quarters _ ,” a raspy voice crackled over the comm. While some of the lower ranked attendants groaned, Vage Megrook felt his dick twitch.

_ Lord Vader!  _ He couldn’t believe his ears. Jumping out of his chair, he knocked it over. His  _ colleagues  _ laughed at him. This is nothing new. More lower lifeforms who didn’t understand his brilliance, didn’t get what true power and prestige looked like.

“Hey, Morgue Boy, don’t jizz your pants,” one of them gruffed. Vage bent over to pick up the chair, one foot behind the other like he was dropping the galaxy’s most awkward curtsy. He tripped. The cretins laughed again.

He picked himself up, pushed up his glasses. “At least one of us takes our lord’s commands with the gravitas it deserves,” he huffed, dusting off his white uniform. As he stomped out, he could hear them cackling behind him.

“Lord, my  _ ass _ ,” one of them profaned. “Vader’s a leftover relic.”

“More machine than man,” another chuckled.

_ More god than machine _ , Vage chimed in silently. 

He’s memorized the way to Vader’s quarters because “garbage” meant “dead body” at the door. Vage had never been inside though, hadn’t dared violate the sanctum. Small, inconspicuous cleaning droids zoomed in and out from a tiny door near the door. It would slide open when a droid got close and the matching magnetic chips allowed it entry. He’d been working on a way to bypass the security clearance but the Empire excelled in creating dead bodies for him to take care of.  
But, the sight of the open door caused him to freeze. Lord Vader wasn’t there but the door had been left open by a body which kept the automatic sensor engaged. Vage’s heart raced. The inside of Vader’s quarters was perfection incarnate. White, sterile. A seat in the middle was turned toward the door. Vader had sat there, his hands clasped on the arms. 

The body was the only mar on such beauty, such power.

Vage frowned at the girl on the floor, her torso bent to one side. What was someone like  _ this  _ doing in Lord Vader’s private chambers? He squat down to examine the body. Slack expression with wide blue eyes staring off into the infinite perfection of white. Lucky girl, her last sight probably a glimpse of Lord Vader in his dark glory perched inside the chamber, his armor scuffed and dulled from countless battles.

Vage grabbed his crotch and adjusted himself, pushing off his fantasies until after he’d cleaned this mess up. The dead didn’t rush but he became nauseous at the thought of displeasing Lord Vader. One did not defy a man made god.

He took out his comm to call for a bag when the body sputtered, blood flicking out of its mouth.

_ She’s alive?  _ Vage’s eyes went open. Normally, he’d let someone like this just die on the table. Lord Vader couldn’t be bothered with petty details like this. Surely, he  _ knew  _ that the offender would be taken away by the morgue attendant (him, Diener Megrook of the Empire’s premier military morgue in the Feltock sector) and that he  _ knew  _ that he could trust Vage to finish what he started. How could Lord Vader  _ not  _ given that he was the head of the morgue on the ship? But this woman was lying in Lord Vader’s quarters. A neat, surgical hole through her chest.

“His lightsaber,” Vage whispered in reverence.

This was a test, Vage realized. Lord Vader had  _ nearly  _ killed this woman to see if Vage could save her. That was the only reason for her to be left in such a position in such a state. He fumbled for his comm, shouting at one of the technician droids.

“A gurney and life support!”

Vage grinned. Just wait until Lord Vader could see how magnificent he was.

* * *

 

 

“ _ Come… out of my quarters _ .”

Nurse Ainsjoy Spavow floated.

“ _ Come _ ,” her love beckoned.

She righted herself, flowing dress tangling between her legs. He’s there, standing in front of her and offering his dark, gloved hand. This time, she sees him, the  _ real  _ man behind the mask. His striking eyes are framed by dark shadows, evidence of the countless hours he spends defending the Empire. And protecting her.

“ _ Come… _ ” she hears him call to her. His skin is fair. He looks so much more distinguished and strong now that she knows him. “ _ Come out _ …”

Ainsjoy tries to open her mouth, tries to get it to move. Instead something pulls at her lungs. Pulls her away from her love, her soulmate.  _ No!  _ This couldn’t be happening. They belonged together, two lonely people who needed each other to fill the voids in their life, the holes in their chests.

“ _ Come _ …” Darth Vader once again pleads. “ _ Come _ …”

It’s agony. It’s torture. They’ve overcome so much and yet something pulls her away from him again.

* * *

 

 

“MD-3, notate,” Vage begins, gloving up. The skinny droid wobbles closer to him, a light near the top changing from red to green.

“Dictate when you’re ready, attending.”

Vage slammed his plastic keyboard against a counter, a corner of it snapping off and shooting into the air. “ _ Diener Megrook! _ ” he screeched. “How  _ fucking  _ hard is it to remember that, you bundle of wires?” He then swings the clipboard into the droid’s face, causing it to wobble.

“Diener Megrook,” it corrects itself, more quietly this time.

“Anterior segment of the right superior lobe severely damaged. Wound appears to be a perfect cylindrical perforation through the entire mass, cauterized. Right secondary bronchus has been completely severed from the right primary bronchus. Significant muscle and tissue damage on the right anterior side of the chest which cleanly runs through the subject. Exit of the wound goes completely through the right scapula… I believe cybernetic reconstruction would be successful.”

* * *

 

 

Ainsjoy doesn’t know how long she’s been dreaming. Forever, it seems like. She knows it’s a dream but she knows it’s also  _ not  _ a dream. Their love is real. It’s the most real thing in the galaxy.

The instruments slow their pace and Lord Vader pulls her closer, their dance changing into gentle sways from the rush of swoops and swings. This is real. She can smell the residue of war on his cape.

“You came to me,” she whispered against the cold of his chestplate.

“Of course,” he answers. “Then you came to me.”

She can’t help but sigh contentedly. “My job requires me to be observant. I saw the signs.” She smiles.

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“I know you have to be careful,” she answers.

 

The cape. The blood. The circuitry. The bandages. The scrap metal. She’d kept

everything. She had solved the puzzle and figured out the message.

 

_ I need you. I love you. _

* * *

 

 

Three weeks in the hydraulic chamber and the woman had done little more than twitch while in her medically induced coma. But the work he’d done, oh, Lord Vader would marvel at his genius.

He’d placed a cold, plastic chair right in front of the tank so he had a good view. She floated in the chamber, hooked up to numerous tubes--one shoved down her throat, a few in her nose, one in her anus, and many others feeding her fluids through her veins. But none of that interested him. No, he had his uniform pants unzipped and pulled down to his thighs so he could admire the circuitry that could be seen.

“Your brilliance is unrivaled,” Lord Vader says in his mind while Vage strokes the head of his dick. He shivers when the voice purrs, “But I know of the work inside too.”

Vage moans. For the last few weeks, he’s been working off the memory of performing surgery on her, replacing flesh with metal and tubes with wiring. When he recalls licking the edges of that perfect, circular wound, he pumps harder. His hips arch. The taste of metal never left his tongue. It had to be the taste of Lord Vader’s lightsaber. White hot light seering completely through her body.

He imagines fucking the hole his lord made.

“You’re worthy of taking what I have had,” his lord praises him.

* * *

 

 

She panics. There are things in her, around her, and she’s in it too.

Something makes a noise. It sounds like tapping. Muffled words. There’s a man on the other side. 

Everything is white. Light. Muffled.

This wasn’t real. This was the dream. All she needs is to wake up and she will be reunited with her love.

But suddenly the bottom falls out beneath her and she isn’t floating anymore.

The man opens the glass in front of her.

“Yes, Lord Vader would be  _ most  _ pleased,” he muses.

Ainsjoy’s heart soars.

* * *

 

Vage Megrook hates this woman. She got to see his face, to touch his armor.

“It’s not fair!” he screams, throwing a scalpel down. “What would he possibly see in someone like  _ you _ ?”

She’s a nurse, she’d explained. “We’re lovers,” she sighed dreamily, albeit the circuitry and tubes now made her voice take on noticeable reverberation. “He’s left me gifts. He came to me personally when he was injured on the battlefield. He protected me from my horrible, abusive boss.”

“He put a lightsaber through your chest,” Vage sneers.

“He didn’t kill me. But he could have. A man like him would never make such a silly mistake.” Ainsjoy Spavow has tiny little pinpricks of blood from where the needles had been in her arms. He’d given her nothing more than she deserved: a paper sheet to cover herself with. Vage demanded she not cover her torso. He wanted to see that large, circular board he’d put in. It was made with scraps of metal but he was brilliant, he could make due. The lights blinked.

The panel was identical to Lord Vader’s in everything but shape.

Vage paused, thinking about her words. “You’re right. He left you alive on purpose. He  _ wanted  _ me to save you, to prove my skills.”

Her face hardens. “He wanted me to show him I was strong enough for him.”

But he can’t stop thinking that she’s seen his face. Felt his lightsaber go in her, through her.

Vage grabs her face and gets in close. “Tell me. Tell me about Lord Vader and your test,” he demands.

* * *

 

 

It’s new. It might go away, Diener Megrook warned. But every time she spoke, Ainsjoy could feel herself get wet. It was like having Lord Vader inside of her. “He left me gifts, little tokens of love.” She rocked against the table she sat on. The diener didn’t try to still her. He kept his gaze focused on hers and his hands between her face. “He left me his cape,” she explained, rocking again. She stifled a moan but remembered the ball they’d danced in. Lush with soft pink and yellow lights, the smell of him in the air. She remembered that smell from the battlefield, from when she ran out and tended to his injuries.

“And I knew he needed me.” She couldn’t stop the moan from escaping her mouth. “So I went to him,” she gasped. Rocking back and forth, back and forth.

Vage ripped off the sheet covering her legs and shoved his hand past her clenched thighs, into her. She tried shoving him off but he persisted, jamming himself in and out.

“I’m worthy of taking what he has had,” he grunted, humping his hard dick against her thigh. “Lord Vader would be pleased him my work.”

At the mention of Vader, Ainsjoy relaxed. She closed her eyes, spread her legs. “Yes…” she gasps. “What he has had.” Lord Vader has had her over and over. She remembers the countless times she’d been alone in her bunk, her hands rubbing herself furiously with the used bandages he’d left her. His blood mingled with her, them as one.

They have had each other.

She wakes up from the dream. She’s now in Vader’s arms under the canopy of a four poster bed. “You came to me,” he rasps. A soft wind blows through from somewhere and the canopy fabric gently waves over their intimacy.

“You protected me,” Ainsjoy answers before crying out his name.

“ _ Come _ …” he whispers in her ear.

* * *

 

He shoves his hand over her mouth as she comes, humping harder and faster.

Tears stream down her face. He groans. 

He’s back in Lord Vader’s private chamber, this time with Vader standing behind the white chair. His dark, gloved hand bids him to sit. “Diener Megrook,” he rasps. “Your brilliance has no match. You have proven yourself my equal.”

Vage rests in the cold, hard chair. 

“I am worthy of everything you have had.”

* * *

 

“Lord Vader!” Vage exclaims, shoving his hands down his pants and pumping furiously.

Ainsjoy comes again at the mention of her lord.


End file.
